


Imprisonment

by To_Shiki



Series: SPCH HC List [1]
Category: Captain Harlock
Genre: Bruises, Hypoglycemia, Imprisonment, Injured Yama, Minor Injuries, Multi, Multiple Partners, Original Title is Original, cuz that's how I roll, everybody's hot when you're on the same ship forever, just taking prompts from the hc list, series will not be posted in order
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-04
Updated: 2015-11-04
Packaged: 2018-04-29 20:03:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5140763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/To_Shiki/pseuds/To_Shiki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yama awaits rescue aboard a Gaia ship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Imprisonment

By the 8th (or was it 9th?  14th?) day of captivity Yama had become officially bored.  A new record!  Once freed he'll have to mark the calendar.  As soon as he bought one.  Maybe he’ll use Blond’s.  Drive the guy up the wall trying to figure out what it’s for.

The cracks, scorch marks, and pock marks all over the walls and ceiling had kept him occupied for the better part of what he suspected was a week. Suspended from the ceiling by his wrists allowed him to slowly spin in a circle to keep the count going.  It was a bit of a stretch as his toes barely touched the metal flooring.

Loosing track each time he woke up helped.  So did the bouts of dizziness and vertigo in between the pitiful excuses of feeding times, barely enough nutrients to keep him functioning.  The hits to the face helped the most by making everything fuzzy and spotty.  Looking down to try and count cut off his airway and strained his shoulders more than he could bare.  So the floor was left out of the tally.

All in all there were 52 scorch marks, 370 cracks varying from an inch to over a foot in length (seriously, who was in charge here?  This is _not_ a very structurally sound prison), and 1,014 pock marks from who-knows-what.

But that was finalized last week and now he had nothing new to entertain himself until the cavalry arrived to save his sorry behind.  Although he would appreciate some water before they get him out of here.  Not to drink but thrown on him to get rid of the stench he was sure he had after so long without the use of a bathroom.  The blood in his nose from when it was broken in the initial attack has left him blissfully unaware of just how bad he smelled.  But he could _taste_ how bad it was.

He could waste time fantasizing about what he’d do once Harlock and the others made their dramatic appearance and got him the hell out of here.

A shower.

Some clean clothes.

Bed.  His.  Anyone’s.

Food.  A lot of food.  He was in the cook’s favor since he had grabbed as much herbs and spices as he could last supply run.

He kept flipping them around.  Food, shower, clean clothes, bed.  Bed, clean clot- that makes no sense – shower, clean clothes, food.  He let his head fall back, staring at the ceiling as he wiggles his bare toes enough to spin him around slowly.  When the marred ceiling renewed his fading headache from the latest beating he closed his eyes to better focus on the mental list.

Bed, clean clothes, food, shower, clean clothes, foo- Shit, lost track.  Try again.

Shower, clean food, bed clothes, bed.  Eh, close enough.

Shower foo-

_CRACK!  CRACK!  THUD!_

His back’s to the door when he hears it come crashing down, vibrations going all the way down the chains to his aching shoulders.  His eyes snap open and he struggles to turn himself.  Gloved hands, familiar hands, roughly spin him around.  It takes his brain longer to catch up than the retinal scanner.  His eye’s flashing information of the face in front of him, facial recognition highlighting Harlock’s face so the Gaia Sanction can to identify his rescuer. 

By the time he can process what’s going on Harlock’s got one hand holding his head up while the other gently covers his right eye.  The sudden lack of data streaming across his vision has him sighing in relief.  Looking over his captain’s shoulder he can see the damage done to the entry way.

The entire frame had come crashing down with the door.  The cracks in wall it was attached to had grown longer.  Yama chuckled dryly.  “I… was right,” he managed to croak out as Kei and Hercules shove their way in to his humble abode.  He lets his eye close as they started questioning him, the pain spreading from his temples to the back of his skull.

Someone, couldn’t be Harlock - could still feel his hands on his head, slipped his eyepatch on.  They were gentle, barely catching any of his sweaty hair in the cord as they secured it.  Once in place Harlock brushes his hands over his face, quickly shoving the cartilage of his nose back into place without any warning.  Hercules, those big hands couldn’t belong to anyone else, steadies him as he jerks in surprised pain.  One hand to his waist and the other to the back of his neck to keep it from falling back and letting the fresh blood choke him.  The heat he’s giving off has him moaning in pleasure despite the pain.

Harlock’s hands shift down his body, checking for any damage hidden by his thin shirt.  Weakly he tells him about losing feeling in his hands by the third day.  He gets a hum in response as he continues on.  Left shoulder’s definitely dislocated from being suspended for so long.  Pressing down on the left side of his ribcage has more give than the right.  Both sides pain him – right bruised, left cracked.  Stomach bruised as well from the beating but no obvious signs of internal bleeding (or he’d be dead already, just let me down now!).

It’s not until he’s knelt down, checking both legs for injuries, that he gives Hercules the go ahead.  The bruises littering his legs will be painful but there are no breaks to worry about.  The big man gently wraps both arms around their youngest crew member as Kei pulls out her gun.  Wrapping both hands around Yama’s forearms Harlock nods at her.

He’s not sure which hurts most:  the gunshot echoing sharply in the small room or Harlock’s attempt to move his arms down to his sides.  They slowly lower him to the floor, sitting him on Hercules’ lap as the man sits cross-legged.  He doesn’t have the strength to complain as Kei’s smaller hands hold his right arm, vigorously rubbing circulation back into the limb.

He is able to turn his head to the side, whimpering as he feels their captain manipulate his left.  That’s about all he’s got in him as Harlock treats his shoulder the same way he did his nose.  His legs jerk out weakly in reaction to the treatment but nothing more.  Laying back against Hercules’ chest is about all he can do as he hears them talk over him.

“He’s shaking.”

“Do you have any-“

“I’ve got some.”

The body under him shifts.  Within seconds there’s something hard pressed against his lips.  He opens his mouth knowing that refusing would get him hit aga-

It’s _his crew_.  They wouldn’t _do that_.

The candy is overly sweet despite the tang of blood still in his mouth.  Sucking on it’s easy but swallowing hurts his parched throat.  He has to keep breathing through his mouth from all the blood clogging his nose, making it take longer for the sugar to reach his system.  He hates raspberry anyways.  Who gave them the right to carry that flavor?

Harlock’s holding his left arm to his chest, the warmth of his hands helping to ease some of the pain sparking along his nerves.  That leaves Kei as the one with a damp rag against his face wiping away what she can of the mess.

The cloth feels amazing against his face, a little rough, but cool against the bruises.  She gets a little too personal with his nose, sticking a cloth covered finger up his nostrils to clean out what she can of the blood blocking his airways.  If he could he’d swat her hand away in annoyance.

By the time he scrounges up enough energy to complain (he’s not Yattaran go bother him) the candy’s gone and another piece is being placed in his mouth.  Grape this time.  Maybe he’ll save the complaint for later.  He can somewhat breath through his nose now.

Besides it was rude to talk with your mouth full.  He’s gotten that lecture enough times from Nami and the crew.

Gloved hand on his jaw brings him physically back to the others in the room.  Opening his eye shows Harlock’s face right in front of his.   His mouth’s moving and the words take too long to reach his ears.

“Put it under your tongue, Yama.  It’ll hit your system faster.”

It?  Oh.  The candy.  By the time he’s got it maneuvered under his tongue the body under him’s shifting.  Time to move.  Greeeeat.  Still can’t feel his arms or legs enough to assist with the escape.

Hercules is on his knees, Yama still on his lap, and whispers, “I’m going to carry you out.  The doc will have my head if you try and walk.”  Right arm holds Yama’s left in place so as to not jostle the injured limb too much and the left goes under his knees.  “We’ll be back home before you know it, kid.”

The world tilts as he stands.  He keeps his eye open long enough to watch their captain take point.  Kei drops the filthy cloth on the floor and guards the back as they rush out of the room.  The enemy didn’t stand a chance as they ran down the corridors towards the Arcadia.

The gunshots and screaming only exacerbates his headache.  Stars dance behind his closed eye, flashing brighter each time Hercules has to abruptly change course or stop.  Just as his stomach was deciding to join in the party the air changes.

Less smoke and more ozone.  Quieter.  The rhythmic thumping of the engine as soothing as a heartbeat.  Yama sighs and lets his head rest against Hercules’ chest.

He’s home.

~*~

When he wakes up next the lights are dim, the engine a distant reassurance that he’s not back in his cell.  There are voices off in the corner talking about him.  Fingers against his scalp have him humming in pleasure before he realizes he’s doing it.

“Feeling better?”

To his left is Kei, sitting in one of the infirmary’s uncomfortable chairs, one arm leaning on his bed while the other plays with his hopefully cleaned hair.  The pressure of her fingertips easing away the lingering remainder of his headache.

He grunts.  “You all…like my hair too much.”  His voice is still hoarse from being held captive.  He eyes the cup of water sitting beside her on the table until she gets the hint.

She holds it just far enough away that he can’t reach the straw.  “Oh, I don’t know.  You look just like the captain right now!”  She keeps it away for a few more seconds until he pulls out his kicked puppy face and then caves.  As soon as he’s done she returns the cup to the table and her hand to his hair.  “Harlock won’t let us touch his hair as much as you do.  So suck it up.”

At his name Harlock ends his discussion with the doctor and moves to Yama’s other side.  He pulls up a chair and settles down, reaching out to also tangle his fingers in Yama’s hair.  Letting his and Kei’s fingers intertwine and rest on top of the mop of hair he fills Yama in.

“Your hands are fine.  The shoulder’s been strapped down so it can heal.  Ribs wrapped, you won’t be moving around easily for a couple of weeks.  Doctor Zero wants you to work on some exercises since you were immobile for so long.”

“How long?”

“How long were you gone?”

At Yama’s nod Kei picked up.  “Sixteen days.  They kept sending out false information to lead us away from the main ship carrying you.”

Yama laughed drily at that.  “No wonder I was able to finish counting.”  At their confused expressions he waved them off with his free hand, noting the IV attached to it.  Seeing himself figuratively tied down to the bed had his heart beating a little harder.  “How long ‘til I can get out of here?”

“As soon as your IV is finished and I like your sugar levels you’re free to go.  So long as you go back to your own bed and _sleep_!” Doctor Zero answers from the foot of his bed.  A cat meowing on the other side of the room has him abruptly leaving the three alone while he goes to investigate.

Taking note of the sweat forming on Yama’s brow Harlock comments, “You wish to go to your room?”  When the youngest gingerly shakes his head in the negative he asks, “Whose room would you like then?”

“Miime’s,” pops out of his mouth so fast he’s surprised they can understand him.  They do understand, and chuckle at him, when he whines as they remove their hands from his hair as they stand.  Kei informs him she’ll be back after informing the rest of the crew he’s awake.  She waves at them over her shoulder as she leaves, by-stepping another crew member as he comes over and whispers into Harlock’s ear.

Harlock’s eye narrows in annoyance.  “I’ll be there shortly.”  He waits until the man leaves before resting his hand on Yama’s face.  Gently stroking his face with his thumb he apologizes.  “There’s something I need to take care of.  I should be back by the time you’re released.”

He leaves the infirmary quickly.  Yama’s slightly terrified expression at being left alone, unable to leave, imprinted on brain.  Tori-san lands on his shoulder and caws quietly.  They head down to the prison block of the ship in silence.

A few of the officers were captured to find out what they did to their crew member and why but so far none of them were talking.  Interrogation was not something that Harlock personally enjoyed doing.  As the first of the officers stood smugly before him all Harlock could see was how frightened Yama was as he left.

His hand snaps out between the glowing red bars and grasps the man by the front of his uniform.  A quick pull and the man’s face slams into the barrier causing him to scream in pain.  The Gaia officer scrabbles to try and release Harlock’s hold on his clothing in vain.  Through the pain throbbing across his face and chest he can see several of the Arcadia’s crew gathering around their captain in a semi-circle.

“Now,” Captain Harlock growls at the struggling man.  “You will tell me _exactly_ what Gaia’s plans were.”

~*~

It was nighttime aboard the ship by the time Yama was moved from the infirmary to Miime’s room.  At Kei’s insistence many of the crew had stopped by to check on their youngest member so he wouldn’t slip back into the brightly lit prison cell.

A few of them were even kind enough to help him into the attached bathroom to help wash him down.  A dislocated shoulder and cracked ribs did nothing to deter his or their wondering hands.  They just meant they had to move slower than usual.

Doctor Zero was less than pleased when they brought his patient back out, shaking from the rush of pleasure.  He’d been kept longer under the doctor’s watchful eye until all trembling had ceased.

Even as he was escorted (supported) to Miime’s room, other crew members made sure to pass by that particular corridor at that time.  Hands brush over him as they pass, relief written clearly on their faces at having their own safely back. 

The bruises along his legs make walking painful, but with Blond and Kei on either side he’s able to make it to his destination without falling.  Quickly entering the code they get him inside and settled on Miime’s bed with little trouble.

He delays both of them from leaving him alone by playing up the pain.  The kind doctor had given him some painkillers for his injuries but they hadn’t kicked in yet.  He needed something else to distract him until he could sleep without seeing the four grey, disfigured walls.

Neither had a problem with changing him out of the light scrubs.  Or with running their hands over blackened skin the shape of fists and boots.  Working together they took turns helping him hold still so as to not aggravate his injuries.  Movements were shallow and they had to do most of the work, but he was able to find release with them twice before the medicine finally kicked in.

He goes from clenching down on Blond and holding Kei’s hip as she rubs against his limp cock to being completely boneless from one groan to the next.  His whine as they try to pull away lets them know he’s okay with them finishing first.

Both lay on either side of him, stroking whatever part of him they can reach, as they wait for the post-coital glow to pass.  His eyes are barely open when they gather themselves enough to clean each other. 

“Nn fffaiiiirr,” he slurs as they trade lazy kisses over him.  Kei chuckles and leans down to kiss him, his lax lips unable to return the gesture.

“Don’t worry, boy.  We haven’t forgotten you,” Blond reassures.  He takes great care in gently wiping him clean of their fluids and lube. 

Once cleaned, they manipulate him as needed to get him in a pair of sweats and a worn sweater donated from someone in engineering.  He breathes it in as deep as he can, glad to finally be able to smell more than the metallic tang of his own blood.

Little motes of light start floating over the bed as his eyes final close.  Miime’s here.  He can hear the three talking, voices low following him into sleep.  Harlock’s joins them not a moment later.

Instead of cracked and pock marked walls he’s back on the bridge.  Someone runs their hand through his hair as Harlock speaks.  Kei’s at her station, Blond nearby.  Tochiro and Miime everywhere around him as the world slowly moves around him.  He’s safe and the Gaia Sanction has lost again.

**Author's Note:**

> This is not what I should be working on. But it's all I have on me. The notes for Be the Light's buried. Somewhere.


End file.
